


Faded

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: Just You and Me and the Grief [4]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Andy | Andromache of Scythia is Too Old, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Falling In Love, Ficlet, Fluff, Good Quynh | Noriko, Immortal Wives Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Quynh says some poetic shit, as she should
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27008707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: The memory of pain is almost as strong as the physical sensation.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko
Series: Just You and Me and the Grief [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947685
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Faded

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Chronic Pain

“What’s wrong?”

Andromache watched as Quynh stretched her neck, shifted from foot to foot, eyes closed, and head turned up toward the morning sun. The sensation in her stomach was at once familiar and something utterly foreign, a swell of emotion that had no place in such a newfound friendship. It was far too early to care, and her concern was unwarranted because they were immortal.

Quynh’s hand ran through her hair, wiped restlessly at her face as she took another long swig of water, “nothing.”

A lie.

It shouldn’t bother her, they hardly knew each other, they were only three weeks into their latest trek towards a small, forgiving village, where they could lay low and catch their bearings. Still, she found herself grimacing at the sight of Quynh’s cracked lips and unable to help herself, silently offered her the oil she kept in her pouch, secreted away in a clay bottle.

Quynh’s didn’t say anything, simply took it and smeared in across her lips, wincing slight at the sensation before passing it back. Andromache, took a long moment to just look, to take in the way her body moved as though hunched, the slight limp in her leg as she walked a little, the way her entire posture was the epitome of stiff and awkward.

Ah.

That explained it.

It had taken Andromache a very long time to understand how her body differed from that of a mortal and to train her mind to recognize it. Quynh was behaving as though she were in pain, her body aching from all the trials she had been through…except she wasn’t in pain, not really. Perhaps she had blisters on her feet and perhaps her lips stung as they perpetually cracked in the too hot desert…but her muscles were not sore and there were no bruises to be found beneath her tunic…it was all in her mind.

Andromache had accepted a long time ago that she would never find answers to explain her immortality or why the gods had chosen her of all people, when she’d been surrounded by those who were better warriors, who had more heart than her, who cared. She’d only ever be able to assume, to come back with her own answers.

The pain though, that was something she felt as though she’d figured out. At first, she had assumed it was a curse, to live forever, to heal, and be rebirthed but to always, always feel the pain of it, to endure. She no longer believed that, not after the first few hundred years and dozens of deaths.

“Quynh.”

Her friend looked up at her, eyes curious because she hadn’t be able to hide the slight tremble in her voice, the delicate discovery that she was someone with whom Quynh would be with forever and that there needed to be trust between them.

“Sit down here with me.”

She hesitated only a moment before coming over to sit next to her against the cracked rock. Her movements were still stiff, and Andromache ignored the urge to sooth her aches with a firm but gentle hand.

“You’re in pain.”

Quynh did not look at her, instead choosing to fix her eyes on the horizon and she couldn’t help the feeling that she was hiding from her in this small way, “I’m alright.”

“You’re not,” she replied plainly. “Don’t lie to me.”

When that did not prompt a reaction, Andromache reached down and gripped her hand, making her turn to look, startled, “its me and you now. We must trust each other.”

The fierceness of the words surprised her, she could see that in her companion’s eyes, felt it in her own. She had dreamed of Quynh for a long time before she’d found her dying beneath the sun and she wasn’t sure what she thought of it, until now. Destiny was a word she’d heard spoke by others though she had no understanding of it…this felt like destiny.

“Everything hurts Andromache,” she began quietly. “I worry why that is when you never seem to be in pain.”

Squeezing the hand that she refused to let go, she offered her a reassuring smile, “it will fade with time. You’ll always feel the pain of death and the injuries you sustain but you will heal quickly, and it will only hurt in the moment.”

Sighing softly, Quynh pulled their intertwined hands onto her lap and looked up at the bright blue sky, her expression contemplative. Since Andromache had found her and brought her back to life with water and food…she had not spoken of the attempts to kill herself, she would simply grow quiet and retreat into herself.

Andromache had no need to pry, she’d done the same once she’d discovered her immortality and far worse. There was, even when you thought yourself a monster, an inevitable sense of power that came from knowing you were unbeatable. Her people had valued strength and skill above all on the battlefield and she had suddenly become something they all wished they could reach.

But she was also an abomination.

Killing herself had been as much about her ending her own life as it was genuine curiosity. The things she had tried were gruesome and relentless, and in the end, they were all pointless because she would always awaken and have to take up the axe against those who’d witnessed her rebirth.

“If the gods have deemed me worthy of a curse such as this,” she said softly, drawing Andromache’s gaze. “Then I suppose I should be grateful they pitied me enough to grant me a gift such as you in the same breath.”

She watched as a slow smile spread over Quynh’s lips, blood glistening as they cracked and eyes painfully sincere. Andromache would have once been terrified by such a sight, by such words, knowing that one day she would have to watch the speaker be lowered into a grave…but not this time.

“You and me,” she murmured, squeezing their hands again.


End file.
